| Thought Map - Mysticism
There is a constant tug-of-war at
the heart of any discussion about mysticism. One group
thinks of mystical experience as contact between this changeable world and
an ultimate, unchanging eternity. The other acknowledges mystical
experiences but thinks that it is essentially a physical state, though no
less valuable for being just that. This difference
of understanding echoes a philosophical difference which has existed since
the earliest times. Heraclitus was a Greek thinker who lived around 500bc.
He looked at the world and concluded that everything is in a state of
constant change. Parmenides lived in Greece about the same time. His
conclusion was that nothing changes. Later, Plato tried to resolve
this contradiction by concluding that both are correct. The world
does change constantly, but behind what we know through our senses is an
unchanging absolute. Once Christian theologians
had taken on board Plato's solution as a way of expressing what they
thought about the relationship of Jesus to the Creator, the idea of
mysticism as a way of penetrating the veil between God and humanity became
more or less universal in the Christian world. Mysticism in the West today
is, I think, widely linked with vague ideas and methods derived from Buddhism. But in
earlier times one was more likely to be a successful mystic if, for
example, one was celibate. Thus the Christian ascetic Jerome around the
end of the fourth century wrote to a young female convert, Eustochium:
Ever let the privacy of your chamber guard you; ever
let the Bridegroom sport with you within. Do you pray? You speak to the
Bridegroom. Do you read? He speaks to you ... [1]
At any rate, mystical experience in the Christian world
until the modern age was thought to result from a good relationship
with God through Jesus. It was sometimes achieved through techniques which closely resemble those of many other religions - prayer,
fasting, meditation, worship and ritual among them. The basic approach was
a determined detachment from outer sensation. Attention to any but basic
physical need, it was thought, interferes with our
capacity to hear God's voice. What happens to a
person who reports a mystical experience? Does it relate to something
or someone as it were "outside" the person? Or is it an entirely
subjective state brought on either by doing certain things, or by certain
physical conditions? An extremely influential
response was provided at the beginning of the twentieth century by the pioneering psychologist William James in his
famous The Varieties of Religious Experience [2].
He asks what criteria mark off a mystical experience from any other. He
thinks that there are four: (1) A mystical experience can't be described -
it is "ineffable"; (2) it seems to involve a state of knowing -
it is "noetic"; (3) it can't be sustained for long; and (4) the
person is passive "... as if he were grasped and held by a superior
power". Interestingly, he points out, all these criteria are also met
by certain drug-induced states, for example the form of consciousness
resulting from breathing nitrous oxide ("laughing gas"). He
thinks that
... our normal waking consciousness, rational
consciousness as we call it, is but one special type of consciousness,
whilst all about it, parted from it by the filmiest of screens, there
lie potential forms of consciousness entirely different.
The different, ecstatic nature of mysticism raises problems of
description for those who experience it. Some, like Dionysius the
Areopagite in the first century could talk about it only in negatives.
Others fall back on paradoxical metaphor such as "dazzling obscurity"
and "whispering silence". James suggests that common to all
mystical experience, whatever the religion or methodology or explanation,
is ...
... the overcoming of all the usual barriers between
the individual and the Absolute ... In mystic states we both become one
with the Absolute and we become aware of our oneness.
People who have the mystical experience can seldom be
convinced by any suggestion that it is an illusion. It is quite simply too
real for them. It has exactly the same qualities as any other good
experience. As a consequence, their sense of the objectivity of the
mystical seems largely invulnerable. I for one don't wish to deny its reality and validity
- though I will perhaps get
defensive if anyone suggests that I am somehow incomplete for not having
it. Keith Yandell puts his finger on what may be a
definitive problem with reports of mystical experience. In an article on Religious
Experience he rightly points out that subjective reality is by
definition private. So if you tell me that you've had a certain experience
I can't contradict you. But if you say, "There's a pink elephant
behind that bush" I am right in trying to confirm its existence. If I
then can't see it I may be justified in suspecting that you're either in
the last stages of delirium tremens or in some other way mentally
disturbed. But I must nevertheless concede that the elephant is real to
you. There's nothing wrong with the mystic's
argument up to this point. But the next step raises suspicions. The person
reporting a subjective experience may, for example, belong
... to a strange cult in which such imaginings are
alleged to yield instant immortality ... If [the person] reports the
experience by saying "I have achieved immortality," [the
person] over-reports ... one can see the point of insisting that ... the
experience is accurately captured by the first report [of a subjective
experience] and left well behind by the second. [3]
I must respect and acknowledge the person who tells me,
"I've had an experience in which I lost all sense of personal
boundaries. With this went a sense of complete personal well-being, as
though I knew the answers to all the questions of life and somehow felt at
one with the Creator." But the person who goes on to assert with
Theresa of Avila that, "It was granted me to perceive in one
instant how all things are seen and contained in God", may be drawing
a conclusion which, at the very least, can't be verified. The mystic has
taken a step too far.
R W Hepburn puts it well:
To feel that an experience is revelatory is one thing;
to judge confidently that it is so is quite another. A dream under
nitrous oxide may strike the dreamer with the force of a satanic
revelation, but on awakening and correlating the nightmare with the
shock of tooth extraction, he may have little temptation to judge the
experience as a genuine disclosure. [4]
Some will no doubt say that one way of finding out if St
Theresa's report is true is to seek and have the same experience. If six
million mystics reported on their experiences (only 0.1 percent of the
world's population), what chance would there be of two identical reports,
I wonder? The problem with this solution is that even if all six billion
of the world's total population took this route, there would be no way of
confirming that the experience of each was common to all. I have found,
like William James, that every report of a mystical experience differs
from every other, sometimes significantly. One
school of philosophy maintains that complete reality belongs only to
"the Absolute". Everything else is merely an
"appearance". The Absolute is beyond description. F H Bradley
(1846-1924) proposed
that ordinary life is riddled with contradictions [4].
Our intellect demands freedom from such contradictions and this freedom
can be attained only by understanding reality (the Absolute). We can
experience the Absolute when all contradictions are resolved into a
harmonious whole, when we penetrate down into an unbroken wholeness of
feeling such as lies below ordinary thought. The latter always involves
forming relations between things, and inevitably therefore leads us into
contradictions. The Absolute, on the other hand, is spiritual and
supra-personal. From here it's a short step to asserting that the Absolute
can be accessed through a mystical experience. The
variations on this theme (usually termed "idealism") are many
and varied. Others have taken different routes. J H Leuba (1867-1946) held
that "... religious mysticism is a revelation not of God but of
man" [4]. It therefore
falls within the natural realm rather than the spiritual. This leaning
towards mysticism as a natural phenomenon was also, though painted on a
wider canvas, the stance of W R Inge (1860-1954), otherwise known as the
"gloomy Dean" (of St Paul's Cathedral, London) for his pessimism
about modern society. Mysticism for him is a fundamental tendency of human
beings. It's available to all, not just to specialist mystics. It includes
the rational faculty and is therefore a controlled activity of the whole
personality. It's all very well to harp on
subjective experience - but what about the real world? Is mysticism
perhaps an escape from the real, or does it somehow connect with something
"out there". Bertrand Russell wonders if it is correct to say
that what the mystical experience results in is truly "knowledge". He
thinks not: "Insight, untested and unsupported, is an insufficient
guarantee of truth". His point is similar to that of Yandell above.
Drawing conclusions from the mystical experience - such as that there is
something or someone "out there" is a way other things are not
"out there" for us - is misconceived. A longer quotation from
Russell may serve to clarify this important point:
Ever since Plato, most philosophers have considered it
part of their business to produce "proofs" of immortality and
the existence of God. In order to make their proofs seem valid, they
have had to falsify logic, to make mathematics mystical, and to pretend
that deep-seated prejudices were heaven-sent intuitions. All this is
rejected by the philosophers who make logical analysis the main business
of philosophy. They confess frankly that the human intellect is unable
to find conclusive answers to many questions of profound importance to
mankind, but they refuse to believe that there is some
"higher" way of knowing, by which we can discover truths
hidden from science and the intellect. [1]
Great scientists like Max Planck and Albert Einstein
more or less followed this view of what the "other out there" of
mysticism turns out to be. It was Werner Heisenberg (1901-1976) whose
physical theories opened up to many the possibility of confirming the
mystical experience. His contribution to physical theory was the
"uncertainty principle". When one examines the smallest
particles of matter, one discovers that certain aspects of those particles
can be known only in terms of probabilities. Statistics takes over from
measurement. This takes us, he said,
out of the rigid framework of Newtonian natural science. Scientists are
wrong if they think that the "language" used by science can be
applied to everything without exception. Even in its own realm it has
proved insufficient. Why then should they think that science can also
confirm or deny our attempts to talk about God, for instance? He concluded
that "... modern physics has perhaps opened the door to a wider
outlook in the relation between the human mind and reality" [5].
I don't think the early promise of Heisenberg's physics has been realised.
This is because it doesn't answer the basic difficulty we have noted above
of extrapolating from the subjective to the objective. As Russell remarks,
all science is based on the belief that an "objective" does
exist, even though we can know only aspects of it - and even then, not for
certain and always and only provisionally. So far
we have explored briefly the possibility of a correspondence between
mystical experience and an "out there", generally called
"God" or the "Absolute". This correspondence may
exist. But there seems no way of confirming it, except by personal
conviction. At the same time, we mustn't miss the basic fallacy of so much
scientific thought, which goes something like this:
Scientists can verify the existence of things which
are real by rational analysis and measurement. Therefore, that which
can't be verified by science isn't real.
In the specifically Christian stable, mysticism is
regarded as a nourishing feed by some and as a potentially toxic weed by
others. The Orthodox churches have preserved a strong attachment to
earlier Christian ways of regarding the world. For them, by and large,
mystics are the elite, nearer to God than most. Mysticism is by this
account an ecstatic state which allows as much of a perception of the
divine as is possible for human beings. The Roman Catholic Church
preserves a similar approach, modified only by its all-embracing need to
divide the world into controllable compartments. Anglicans
(as in most things) include those who would be at home in the Orthodox
tradition and those who would sympathise more with the Reformed tradition.
The latter is suspicious of an emphasis on mysticism and ecstasy. It fears
that the disciplines involved in mysticism might lead to a position in
which God can be approached through our own efforts instead of only
through God's freely-granted grace. It seems to worry also that its
Augustinian concepts of human sinfulness might be replaced by the idea
that we can put ourselves to rights by learning mystical techniques. Nor
does the Reformed tradition much like the idea that God might be
approached through disciplines like fasting and celibacy, both so central
to older concepts of mysticism. I think it
important to note that the Christian approach to mysticism, whether
positive or negative, always assumes a Platonic connection between
subjective experience and an external Absolute. The mystical experience
then becomes a unifying vision of life, or even more - a merging with the
Absolute (God) in an intense, joyous experience. Sometimes the experience
involves a perception of the multiplicity of nature as a single, numinous
unity in which all distinctions are obliterated. Sometimes it involves an
inward-looking experience in which awareness of oneself dissolves into
unity and all subject-object distinctions no longer apply. Another
option when thinking about mysticism is to acknowledge the mystic's
experience as entirely subjective, and proceed to consider only the terms
with which that experience is described. In this case it is possible, and
so some degree useful, to suggest that mystical descriptions consist
entirely of metaphor. That is, it proves impossible to use logic and
analysis to think about such things. So if a mystic talks about losing
herself in a sea of joy, we know that a certain class of language is being
used - one which we normally call poetic. Poetry conveys a certain kind of
truth which few would deny is, if not useful, then deeply meaningful to
many. In a sense this sort of language is the right way to proceed, since
we can only talk about God (the indescribable Absolute) in metaphors such
as "father " or "light" to select but two of a huge
number of possible instances. This has the merit of explaining why mystics
tend to disagree with each other so often. It is a state of mind which is
being described, not some sort of external reality. At
least one more possible way ahead exists. Might it not be possible to
reject all the usual explanations of mysticism and yet give it the highest
possible intrinsic value? The Buddhist version of this option is to accord
the mystical approach the greatest possible power while giving it only a
minimal theoretical explanation. This isn't attractive to the Western
mind, however. Recent research into processes of
the human brain by A Newberg, E d'Aquili and V Rause may have located the
nature of the mystical experience [6].
They have been able to describe how brain activity changes when subjects
describe themselves as in touch with the numinous. Exactly what they found
isn't important here. What does matter is that the mystical process does
apparently have its analogue in certain definable brain activities. We
shouldn't say that brain activity equates with mysticism. To see a pattern
of brain activity on a scanner is not the same as observing a mystical
experience. What we can say, strictly speaking, is that when certain
mystical experiences have been reported, certain analogous brain activity
has been observed. These observations can
nevertheless, I think, be taken to confirm the subjective nature of some,
if not all, mystical experience. It's unlikely that we'll ever know if
such experiences are evoked by or correlate with anything "out
there". Which, I suppose, is another way of saying that what is
reported to be an immensely rewarding experience is just that - an
experience which tells us something about the nature of things, including
humanity, but which doesn't necessarily say anything about God. Even
science depends, in the last resort, upon a type of metaphor to describe
the world. Once this is realised then any supposed conflict between
science and mysticism dissolves. Let Albert Einstein have the final word:
Physical concepts are free creations of the human mind, and not,
however it may seem, uniquely determined by the external world. In our
endeavour to understand reality, we are somewhat like a man trying to
understand the mechanism of a closed watch. He sees the face and the
moving hands, even hears it ticking, but he has no way of opening the
case. If he is ingenious he may form some picture of a mechanism which
could be responsible for all the things he observes, but he may never be
quite sure his picture is the only one which could explain his
observations. [7]
_________________________________________________
[1] Quoted by Bertrand Russell in History of
Western Philosophy, Allen &
Unwin, 1965
[2] Longmans, Green & Co, 1907
[3] A Companion to the Philosophy of Religion, Eds P L Quinn and C
Taliaferro, Blackwell, 1997
[4] The Encyclopedia of Philosophy, Macmillan, 1967
[5] Described by John Macquarrie in Twentieth-Century Religious Thought,
SCM Press Ltd, 1963
[6] Why God Won't Go Away,
Ballantine Books, 2001
[7] Quoted by Newberg et al
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